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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23462329">Sometimes We Break so Beautiful</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itriedtowarnyou/pseuds/Itriedtowarnyou'>Itriedtowarnyou</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Draco Malfoy, Basically Draco had no choice in what happened during the war, Bullied Draco Malfoy, But he really doesn't want to admit it to himself that he is, F/F, F/M, He just wanted to protect his mother, Hero Harry Potter, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt Draco Malfoy, Hurt Harry, Hurt/Comfort, Im modifying a bit of stuff so it fits my interpretation, M/M, Painter Draco Malfoy, Pansy is an amazing friend, Poet Harry Potter, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad Draco Malfoy, Torture, anger issues, badass Pansy, harry potter has anger issues, hermione and ron are kind of assholes at first</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:48:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,906</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23462329</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itriedtowarnyou/pseuds/Itriedtowarnyou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over and students go back to hogwarts to complete their studies. Harry can't seem to control his anger while the whole school seems to be ignoring the fact that a war has actually happened. Draco Malfoy can't sleep and his sanity seems to be fleeting. Harry can't look away from Malfoy as he realizes something is off.</p><p>or<br/>Where Harry notices Draco isn't okay and they develop an unlikely friendship.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Pansy Parkinson, Neville Longbottom/Ginny Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>122</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Isn't it tragic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>     He didn’t know where he was, everything was slurred together and yet he knew when day turned to night because they always got more brutal at night. ‘How many days?’ He’d asked Pansy in a slight panic when she brought him food. They didn’t like when he was unconscious so they made sure he wouldn’t die on them, probably to his mothers demands. Draco’s worst fear was that the war was over and that he had won, because that would mean it was all over and that Draco would be stuck here forever.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>    Pansy never answered, too scared to risk her life for his sanity but then again, she didn’t owe him anything. Draco had never really been a good friend. Always looking for an excuse to get her to leave him alone and treating the closest person to him like absolute rubbish isn’t exactly the standard values to friendship. If Draco had to guess he’d been here no more than a month, but he couldn’t tell, nothing made sense here. Everything was so bleak, there was a table on the far side, empty except for a single knife. Then there were the chains, those dug into his skin until he couldn’t feel his hands anymore, his wrists were fiery red with skin so raw that the blisters around the chains kept him in constant pain. He didn’t understand how he could go through hours and hours of torture and it was the little things who kept him gritting his teeth at the end of the day. None the less, nothing made sense, not those brick walls which made up a room he didn’t even know existed in his own house. Yes, he was at the manor, but nothing had ever felt less like home. It was an understatement to say Voldemort had taken a liking to him, after he’d lied and said ‘that’s not him’ to Bellatrix’s’ face when clearly it was. Draco knew exactly what Harry Potter looked like and the moment he had seen him he had known but lying to the great lord didn’t tend to give you much brownie points since Draco was, well, here and being tortured for it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>   A clicking noise snapped Draco out of his thoughts, “not him not him not him-please, oh god.” Draco ushered in a mantra, but it seemed luck wasn’t on his side, as usual.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Draco, my boy” He walked in, smirk steady and a whip in his hand. Draco always found it weird that someone who hated muggles so much would use all their mundane equipment, “Draco-” a crack resonated before he finished and then all Draco knew was agony and it was everywhere.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>/</em>
</p><p>   “What, yes?” Harry tuned in and finally turned his attention to her, it seemed like after the war his patience was so thin, he could barely skate on it and yet everybody was. Not giving a single shit about his need of privacy and for any lord up there who might be listening just an ounce of peace and bloody quite would be well appreciated.</p><p>   Hermione was waving her hands rapidly, obviously excited about something, her frizzy hair and golden smile reminded him of before the war when everything was so much easier, and everybody was alive. She sat at the table not seeming to notice that every so often there was supposed to be someone else sitting next to their neighbor. ‘Casualties of war’ the daily prophet had said, bloody rubbish in his opinion though. Nobody should have lost a loved one, nobody.</p><p>   “-I can’t believe it he’s come out with another piece, it’s a great way for people to relate to it though. I just wish there was more hope to it you know. That’s what everybody is lacking and as much as I love his pieces and I can relate to them myself I wish he’d give more than relatability, I don’t know, were recovering and everything looks so different but his paintings are just so sad-” Hermione ranted until Harry finally snapped the newspaper she’d been waving around in her hands for the past five minutes now and gave a look at it.</p><p>   A few months after the war an anonymous artist started putting out those pieces, most were gruesome but all were relatable, this painter had managed to put everybody’s pain in pictures and in a weird way it helped you breathe to know you weren’t the only in those shoes. The pieces themselves never held any individuals, always just shadows or figures. Sometimes you could make out an expression but not anything to identify the individual. The paint seemed blurred with lines harsh and sad as though the painter themselves was lashing out at the canvas. There was a true talent in those artworks, the last painting was all in pink and still it seemed dark and oppressive. The new painting showed two figures, it was all about being secretive, leaving viewers to ask themselves who are those people? And yet this painting was a first, the first figure was pointing a wand and he was pointing it to a child’s head, obviously defenceless the child could only stare.</p><p>   “There’s a mark.” Harry looked up to Hermione, “The dark mark is on the child’s arm.”</p><p>   “I know, but I guess he really wanted to capture the essence of the war, that innocent people were killed on both sides.” Harry looked at the picture of the painting in the daily prophet once again and not for the first time he wished he could see it in person, thinking that the newspaper didn’t give it any justice, it must look a thousand times better in person. In the painting the child was surrounded by the brightest colours, but they seemed to curve inwards letting darkness seep into all the warmth exactly were the wand was pointing and going straight for the child’s chest. That inwards curve let you know one thing; you knew exactly who was winning the battle.</p><p>   “He died,” Harry looked up to Hermione, “The child died for bearing a mark he had no choice into getting. How could he ever have defended himself against Voldemort?”</p><p>     Hermione sighed and pointed to a word in the Daily Prophets article <strong>‘Lucas’</strong> it said in bold, “That kid, his name was Lucas, or so they think. He went missing during the war after his parents were killed for not accepting the mark. The name of the piece is Lucas, my guess is that whoever it is out there that’s making those pieces is trying to send a message. He had no choice.” Tears shone in her eyes “He didn’t deserve it.” Harry closed his eyes in disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose he took a deep breath before opening them. It just wasn’t fair.</p><p>    Hermione was now in a conversation with Ron who kept saying the word ‘bacon’ and ‘so good’, it was as though they’re conversation hadn’t even happened. Hermione was back to all smiles and giving her full attention to Ron as he shuffled food in his mouth all while eating and it didn’t disgust Hermione one bit. The school spirit seemed to have returned some, students were back to groaning about potions exams and too much homework. Everything seemed perfectly fine, there was even a healthy rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin which was strange as it wasn’t exactly a healthy one before. There was one odd thing though, one person who was always looking over their shoulder, flinching at the slightest sound and jumping in fright every now and then. That person was Draco Malfoy, Malfoy who had been on the opposite side of the war. Draco Malfoy who Harry had an ongoing rivalry since the first day they met and yet nothing had happened since everyone had returned to school. Harry looked over to the Slytherin table and there he was, hunched over his food, shuffling it around but not eating it. Pansy Parkinson seemed to be giving him a hard time about it too, Harry couldn’t hear what she was saying but from her expression it was a good scolding.</p><p>   “You’ve got to eat Draco.” Pansy took a deep breath, shifting in her seat. Draco just looked up at her and nodded only to return to staring at his food.</p><p>   “I’m not hungry.” Was his only comment. Draco could see how she was trying to seem fierce and demanding but her eyes were clouding with tears. There was that constant feeling of disappointment, that somehow, he’s the reason for it all. Deep down Draco knew that thought was ridiculous, but if he would have done something when he was younger? Or if he would have told someone? Maybe the war could have been stopped, maybe more people would be here, maybe Lucas would be alive.</p><p>   “Look-” Pansy tied up her hair- “I don’t care if you’re determined to die, I’m not letting you. You are stuck here whether you want it or not and if you don’t suck it up and eat, the next colour I’m getting you is yellow.”</p><p>   “Yellow. Do I get peace and quiet if I act like I care?” Draco sneered.</p><p>   “Lucas would want you to-” She was cut off by Draco slamming his fists on the table. “Don’t you dare. Do not dare bring him up, you have no idea what happened. What I told you was nothing. You know nothing.” Draco fumed finally sitting back down. Down? When the hell had he gotten up? Looking around he noticed he had the full attention of the great hall; everyone was looking at him as though he was going to hurt someone.</p><p>   “He died.” Pansy stood gathering her things, “I know that, and I know he’d be disappointed in you right now.” And with that she left, leaving Draco to drop his head in his hands. Slowly he heard conversations returning, people talking about their weekends and what classes they shared. Unknowing Draco stood leaving his full plate of food and the whole time a pair of eyes was tracking his every movement.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Saviour Potter at it once again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>      Harry didn’t know what was going on with him, he knew he was angry that everyone had seemingly forgotten about the war. Or maybe they were just trying to forget how much hurt they’d all been through but for Harry everything ran so much deeper. His whole childhood was about this war, he grew up manipulated by people around him to be the saviour they needed him to be. What about himself? Nobody cared except from Hermione and Ron, the rest of them didn’t know the first thing about Harry. No wizards came to ask him about his hobbies or what he liked, all people wanted from him was autographs and attention.</p><p>       He was sitting in the Gryffindor common room when he noticed that everyone seemed so happy. The couches were occupied which led little groups to be huddled on the floor together in attempt to do their homework. Harry had potions later that afternoon, merlin only knew why he was in that class. If not for the book of the half blood prince, he wouldn’t be where he was. Hermione and Ron were on the couch beside Harry talking in low voices. Slowly he felt loneliness settle in, he was in a room full of people and yet he couldn’t hold a conversation with anyone because they all seemed to believe him to be a saint. Harry hated that, that somehow people viewed him to be something he completely wasn’t. The war had been hard, and he hadn’t been dealing with it very well, he researched that insomnia wouldn’t necessarily kill you because your body just made you go unconscious. So, the good news was that harry wouldn’t die, the bad news was that Harry was still here. What a joke Harry thought to himself. Some place who had once felt like home had never felt more foreign. He didn’t feel an emotional connection to anything around him, sometimes when they came back from classes Ron would start whining that harry had sat in his place at the couch. He never thought he had ‘his place’ on a couch but only a vacant spot. Not so long ago these little things didn’t bother him, but he thought of Hermione who would always cuddle in her favourite sweater when she was upset. Envy, that’s what it was. He hadn’t realized he’d been so envious of the little things until now. Didn’t he deserve to have a favourite mug or sneakers people seemed weirdly obsessed with. Instead he had too large shirts, pants with holes from overuse that didn’t fit him right since it was never really his clothing. It was what he managed to get while living with the Dursleys. Harry picked at his collar, a hole was showing his collarbone and the shirt almost reached his knees. It’s a good thing they had uniforms he thought to himself.</p><p>       Harry took one look around the room and felt his loneliness replace itself with anger. People were so stupid. Harry didn’t exactly know why; he only knew that he had to get out of there before he snapped at someone. He got up from the couch which had molded itself to his shape since he had been there for so long.</p><p>       “Where are you going Harry?” Ron questioned slowly lifting his head from the cushion. Harry looked at him absent mindedly before shrugging his shoulders and walking out of the common room. “He’s been acting strange recently” Ron whispers to Hermione.</p><p>        Hermione runs a had over her face as if trying to clear it of any thoughts. “Yeah, I know I’ve been trying to reach him, but he’s been in his own world and I don’t know what to do.”</p><p>        “I guess he just needs some time.” Ron admitted looking up to the ceiling as if somebody up there could give him answers. “But we need to do something, try to make him get over the war.”</p><p>       “A small push into rejoining society,” Hermione sighed, “It could do him some good. I’ll invite him to watch a muggle movie. He likes that.”</p><p>       “A movie? That’s a great idea.” Neville popped up from his book about herbology, “We could watch something about the muggle nature, a documentary Harry calls them. Maybe something about plants.” He added ecstatically.  </p><p>/</p><p>         Harry wasn’t the first person in potions no matter how early he left the common room. He’d ended up walking aimlessly around the castle trying to find something that wasn’t there. He’d walked into the potions classroom with only one place left. Without care Harry sat down beside Draco Malfoy not saying anything as the whole classroom looked at him with unblinking eyes as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Harry sighed annoyed that his peers were so petty. His rivalry with Malfoy had taken an abrupt end when he’d saved him at the Malfoy manor. Harry silently respected Malfoy, he knew that he must’ve been terrified and no matter how many times Ron and Hermione said Malfoy didn’t know who he was at the time Harry was convinced he knew.</p><p>          “Oh, would you all just get over yourselves,” Harry swore and that seemed to bring everyone’s focus back onto the teacher. “Bloody Merlin” Harry murmured. He heard Malfoy snort beside him and turned to find the man with a small smile on his face. Harry frowned as he realised, he hadn’t seen the man smile much less talk in some time since his explosion in the great hall with Parkinson. That had happened a few days ago and led to Draco being taken out of class for McGonagall intervention or what Harry liked to call ‘I can’t mind my own business and have to make sure none of you are on the verge of killing themselves’. It oddly felt like a one-sided therapy session with McGonagall saying she cared and all the romance. Harry came back to himself only to find Malfoy looking straight back at him an eyebrow raised in silent judgement which irked Harry to no end.</p><p>           “You’ve got a problem Potter?” Malfoy sneered never taking eyes off Harry. Somehow that brought a smile to Potters lips, this was the most normal conversation he’d had all week. The smile seemed to disarm Malfoy from his defences as he looked at Potter with a baffled expression.</p><p>           “Oh, sod off Malfoy would you.” Harry nagged, Malfoy made a noncommittal noise before they both started paying attention to the teacher in front of them going on about projects and grading expectations.</p><p>            Professor Slughorn leaned back on his desk and slowly admitted “whoever you’re sitting besides is going to be your desk buddy for the rest of the term-” groans and shouts of objections came out from the students, “-and that will be final.” Professor Slughorn raised his voice to be heard over the students. Harry didn’t care much for the admission, the small banter between him and Malfoy wouldn’t cause him many problems and if one things for sure he’d rather be with someone that couldn’t stand him rather than someone that would drool over him for no reason at all. He notices Hermione and Ron turn around from in front of them to look at him in horror. Hermione gives him a sad look and then turns around to once again pay attention to the class. Harry also notices Parkinson giving Malfoy a look of encouragement before she also pays attention once more. Harry turns to Malfoy with the semblance of a laugh on his lips at how their friends reacted.</p><p>            “Are you going to have any problems with us working together Malfoy?” Harry taunts while Malfoy gives him an unimpressed look. “No seriously, I am quite useless at potions though.”</p><p>            “As if I haven’t noticed Potter,” Malfoy remarked without another word.</p><p>            “Right-uh, sorry in advance I guess.” Harry whispered before Professor Slughorn started speaking once again.</p><p>            “Since you are all 8<sup>th</sup> years, for the time you lost on your education during the war I can accept requests since this class had been mostly completed. Per McGonagall’s request I am going to keep my classroom free of any prejudice no matter what happened in the war.” Draco received a few nasty looks from students around him, “Meaning we will start with Veritaserum. I know this is an uncommon practice, but you will need to take some and have a conversation as soon as you leave this class you will receive an antidote for Veritaserum, and we will learn to brew it the following class. Any objections?” Slughorn finished. Several students put their hands in the air clear objections to the activity.</p><p>            “Parkinson.” Professor Slughorn pointed</p><p>            “Are we obliged to take the Veritaserum? And will we have to have questions asked? Isn’t that barbaric, sir” Parkinson asked obviously concerned to what could happen if an entire classroom of students had Veritaserum.</p><p>            “Look, we’ve been through a war and none of you are able to hold an honest conversation with one another. I’m not asking you to go through an interrogation here, all I want is for you to speak to the person beside you and as soon as you feel uncomfortable, I’ll give you the antidote.” Slughorn insisted with a dejected look on his face. He seemed tired, as though he’d lost interest in his day to day job but was stuck with it. A few hands went down after Parkinson’s question. “Granger.” Slughorn pointed.</p><p>            Hermione seemed pleased to finally be able to ask her question, “If I understand correctly sir, we will brew Veritaserum today, the antidote next class and then do that whole-” Hermione thought for a second “project being the best word, or the class following?”</p><p>            “Correct Mrs. Granger, though the project will be in three classes and not two.” Professor Slughorn looked around the classroom, “Right, anybody who does not want to participate needs a note from McGonagall. And since its brewing time is 28 days you will all be given premade potions and your grades for potion making will only come in a month or so.” Slughorn mentioned for students to get to work and suddenly the class was in motion students moving about to get ingredients and cauldrons.</p><p>            “This is bloody ridiculous, what is he awaiting to happen? Pig headed fool” Malfoy was mumbling in exasperation. Harry turned to him staring. “What? He’s a fool, this potion has to be brewed on the day of the new moon and we’re nowhere near that.” Malfoy added looking at Harry as if awaiting him to disagree.</p><p>            “Uh-” Harry stood suddenly, startling Malfoy slightly “I’ll get the cauldron.”</p><p>            “Iron cauldron not bronze” Malfoy called after him getting the attention of a few students, but he ignored them in favour of clearing his desk. He felt their eyes on him and waited for somebody to hex him. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but it was getting annoying. He looked up to find Hermione talking to him and Ron looking at him in a seething manner. Not his greatest fans he thought.</p><p>            “-and I swear to Merlin, if you do so much as look at Harry wrong, I will make sure you cannot step into this classroom again. Have I made myself clear?” Hermione demanded looking at him directly in the eyes. Draco simply nodded, before Harry got back with a bronze cauldron.</p><p>            “Hey you guys okay?” Harry asked the three pairs of eyes looking at him. Draco looked at him before shaking his head and nearly smacking himself as he set his head in his hands suddenly.</p><p>            “I said Iron you fool.” Harry seemed embarrassed flushing slightly before turning around to grab the correct cauldron. They started brewing the potion and Draco was surprised to find that Potter wasn’t completely useless. As long as Draco told him exactly what to do step by step he seemed to be doing well. Not his usual horrible potion skills Draco had learned to know. Draco was counting the minutes while bringing the potion to a simmer, it had to be 10minutes on the dot, not one second more. Draco remembered when Voldemort had used it on him. He had wanted to know all his secrets, Veritaserum had done the trick. As much as he had tried to fight against the potion, he always seemed to get what he wanted.</p><p>
  <em>             He laughed at him while Draco withered in pain on the ground not wanting to answer. He could feel the blood drooling from his mouth from fighting the Veritaserum. The potion would do anything to get him to answer. He was barely conscious, Draco wished he could fall unconscious so he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain. Voldemort, Draco had been so scared to utter or think of the Dark Lord that way, but he was no Lord and Draco wouldn’t give him that title. Voldemort grabbed Draco by the hair bringing his head up harshly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>            “I said where is the boy” Voldemort spat, “You will answer me, you-” A crack interrupted as Voldemort brought the whip towards Draco. Slashing across his back, blood pooled on the cold floor, staining his feet. Draco let out a harsh sob, screaming in pain as he felt his flesh tear at the seams. Draco could feel his body shake as the searing sensation took over once again. “I” Crack “Said” his knees buckled under him, “WHERE” the whip landed on his nuke and Draco didn’t hear the rest of Voldemort’s question as darkness gave him its warm embrace. </em>
</p><p>            Potter was shaking his shoulder, trying to get his attention. He seemed worried Draco detachedly noted, and Potter was repeating a word looking at Draco in the eyes.</p><p>            “What,” Draco’s voice cracked. He was still shaking, and he could feel pain on the back of his neck. Draco tried to rub the pain away reminding himself he wasn’t there anymore. He wasn’t there anymore and yet Draco stood frozen waiting for him to step into the room laughing. Draco took a shuddering breath as he cleared his thoughts and turned to Potter who was once more shaking his shoulder. “I’m fine” he muttered, and Potter let go of him with a snort.</p><p>             “Sure, you are,” Harry said sarcastically all the while looking at him worriedly, “You don’t look too good.” Potter stated bringing up a hand to feel his forehead, but he swatted it away.</p><p>             “I’m just a little dizzy is all.” Draco lied, well not necessarily, he was feeling a little lightheaded. Draco swatted Potter’s hands once again as they got too close to him. “Gods do you feel the urge to touch me or what.” Draco exclaimed annoyed. The class seemed to freeze as everyone looked at them and Harry flushed, cheeks a little pink. Wait no, Potter not Harry what the hell was wrong with him. He’s cute when he’s embarrassed Draco thought to himself before physically shaking himself out of his thoughts. What the hell was wrong with him.</p><p>             “When was the last time you ate?” Potter snapped</p><p>             “Whaa-”</p><p>              “I said when was the last time you had some food,” Harry interrupted looking exasperated. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you not eating, you know food. Its something you put in your mouth, mechanically chew and then swallow.”</p><p>              “Give me a break, I told you I’m fine.” Malfoy fumed. Why couldn’t this boy just mind his own business, he was attracting more attention to themselves than Draco was comfortable with. Some of the class had returned to brewing the potion but others simply owlishly looked on.</p><p>              “Right, and I’m Santa Claus” Potter articulated.</p><p>              “Who the fuck is Santa Claus,” Malfoy threw his hands in the air “Are we even arguing about this?”</p><p>               “I guess we are,” Potter stated looking over to the potion who had been simmering for too long now. “The potion has been simmering for 15minutes.” Potter added smugly</p><p>            “Fuck” Malfoy whined before bursting into action</p><p>            The class ended not long after Potter’s ‘fight’ with Malfoy. Surprisingly Malfoy managed to do the potion all over again in half the time while he barked orders at Potter. None the less, Harry was impressed. At first Malfoy didn’t seem overly confident telling him quietly how to prepare the ingredients step by step but then he was telling him how to do things calling him idiot and a fool. It was the most relaxing class Harry had had since he got back to Hogwarts, he was happy to have a sense of normalcy in his routine. Malfoy bolted from the classroom as soon as they had been dismissed, Harry smiled fondly before stepping out into the corridor falling in line with Hermione and Ron.</p><p>            Ron looked at him oddly, sharing a look with Hermione before saying “So mate, I’m sorry you had to deal with that asshole.”</p><p>            “What, no he’s not that bad” Harry quickly corrected Ron.</p><p>            “Are you seriously defending Draco Malfoy right now?” Ron spat his name out as if it hurt him. Harry gave him an incredulous look; he was getting so mad at everyone for blaming everything on Malfoy. He had saved him for fucks sake.</p><p>            “Yes, I am, because he’s not that bad and whatever rivalry we had with him before was stupid and immature.” Harry stopped walking as if to show how seriously he was trying to convey his point. Hermione and Ron were looking at him with blank looks.</p><p>            “He’s a death eater, we had reason for that ‘stupid rivalry’ as you call it.” Ron argued eyes flashing.</p><p>            “He had no choice; you know that and you’re a fool for ignoring the facts when you’ve got them in front of you.”</p><p>            “What facts!” Ron shouted his face in Harrys. For a second Harry thought he was going to punch Ron but then he pinched the bridge of his nose and took a step back.</p><p>            “How about the fact that he didn’t turn me over at the Malfoy Manor, or that he gave us food and bandages when we were in the dungeons. Or that he came down to reassure us that he wouldn’t let Bellatrix kill Hermione. Or that he healed Luna when she was in the dungeon. No, we didn’t see it, but Luna told us what he did. How about the fact that he has grown up in world where he was taught the Dark Lord was a god only to realize he’s been lied to his whole life. Hell, what about the fact he told us he was sorry when we were down there and that if he could do something he would.” Harry gave a short laugh, “I’m not trying to defend him, I just understand now. Like that fucking painting that came out a few days ago. The kid had no choice and neither did he.”</p><p>            Harry didn’t wait for Ron to argue although it didn’t look like he would with his ‘oh’ expression on his face. He started walking down the hall, no particular destination in mind, he just needed to clear his head when he heard somebody shout. Hadn’t his day been complicated enough? Harry sped up his stance as he reached the person who had let out a shout. It was Pansy Parkinson; she was holding her arm protectively with Draco Malfoy standing in front of her. Malfoy didn’t even have his wand drawn, his hands were in the pockets of his robe and Seamus stood on the other end looking pissed. Seamus was backed up by other crony’s and they were all hurling hexes at Malfoy. Malfoy didn’t seem affected except for the occasional flinch.</p><p>           “You should be in Azkaban you disgusting piece of shit.” Finnigan screamed. Malfoy started laughing and turned to look at Pansy before muttering ‘go’. Pansy seemed to hesitate, looking for something in Draco’s face and as soon as she saw it, she turned around only to see Harry. Finnigan let out an incantation practically foaming at the mouth with anger, before it could hit Draco Harry hastily put up a protection spell around him. Both boys turned to him looking shocked.</p><p>            “Finnigan. What the hell do you think you’re doing.” Harry spat, the corridor seemed to get significantly colder, lights went out and shadows enlarged as he stepped forward. Harry was absolutely seething; he didn’t even remember the last time he lost control of his power like that. He wanted to hurt Finnigan but before he could utter a single word somebody stepped in front of him grabbing his face in their hands.</p><p>             “Look at me, calm down,” The person assured, Harry’s eyes quickly snapped to those of Draco Malfoy. “I’m okay, just calm down.”</p><p>             “I’m going to fucking kill him.” Harry looked over Draco’s shoulder to Finnigan who let out a squeak before turning on his heel and fleeing. He felt Draco’s hands move his head back to him, who was once again trying to get his attention.</p><p>             “I’m okay, it’s going to take a lot more than Seamus Finnigan for me to get hurt” The other laughed bitterly. “Just calm down for Merlin’s sake Potter.” Harry let out a quick laugh before grabbing Draco’s hands. He noticed there was paint on the back of his hands and in the crevices of his nails, somehow that reassured him, no blood. Its as though they had both forgotten they were in the middle of a hallway as Harry examined the look on Draco’s face, he needed to make sure he was okay. Harry didn’t really know why he needed him to be okay, but he knew that if somebody hurt him Harry would lose his mind. Malfoy was looking at him confused, still shushing him when Harry’s anger started to resurface. Malfoy was the first person that was able to calm him. Harry grabbed Draco by the wrists causing him to wince slightly. Slowly Harry moved the sleeves of Draco’s robes wanting to know if he was hurt only to see scars. They weren’t faint, they jumped at you, screaming at you not to ignore them. Suddenly Draco removed Harry’s hands and covered his wrists so he couldn’t see the scars. Harry gritted his teeth, he wanted to ask what happened but knew that if he asked Malfoy would just put his defences back up.</p><p>            “You’re sure you’re okay?” Harry mumbled quietly. He was aware that people had stopped in the halls and looked at them oddly. They probably seemed too close to others and he could already see people come up with accusations. Draco took a step back and nodded.</p><p>            “Saviour Potter at it once again.” Malfoy laughed but Harry knew it was fake.</p><p>             “Don’t call me that.” Harry growled; the hallways had started to clear, people uninterested by the lack of a proper fight, opting to go to the Great Hall for dinner.</p><p>            “What,” Draco laughed bitterly “Saint Pott-” Harry grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slammed him backwards until he hit the stone wall.</p><p>             “I said don’t call me that,” Harry snarled in his face “I’m not a fucking saint.” Draco laughed at him but stopped when Harry stepped even closer chest to chest with Draco. He gulped audibly and scratched the back of his neck.</p><p>             “What are you doing?” Draco asked his body going tense as Harry didn’t move away.</p><p>             “Are you okay?” Harry insisted. Draco realized that he felt safe in this little space Potter had created, rarely did Draco let people touch him. A small touch felt like sandpaper scraping on his skin and here, with Potter, it felt like nobody could ever hurt him. Not knowing why Draco craved his touch but he knew it was wrong. Saint Potter is only acting like he cares because of pity. Draco took a deep breath and put up his walls.</p><p>             “I’m perfectly fine Potter,” Draco confirmed, “Now, if you would step away from me.” Harry sighed deeply looked at Draco in the eyes in disappointment before stepping away from him.</p><p>             “I’ll figure you out Malfoy,” Harry ran his hands through his hair, wishing he had an elastic to tie it up. “And I sure as hell won’t let you bury yourself.”</p><p>             “You can’t bully your way into friendship Potter.” Draco stated as he walked away from him towards the dungeons.</p><p>/</p><p>            Draco sat in front of his canvas, trying to evacuate his pent-up emotions. Somehow the only time he could ever open up and let everything out was when he was painting. There were those odd drawings he did occasionally, but it was always painting that helped. It was therapeutic in a way. People at Hogwarts hated him for what he was. A death eater and not even a proper one at that. A traitor to both sides. Draco didn’t know why he was still here, but he knew that he couldn’t leave his mom. His mom who was stuck in the manor, in that horrible, ugly and dark place. When he’d come back to Hogwarts the Room of Requirement had been everywhere, at first, he tried to ignore it, scared of what he could find. He’d finally cracked and walked in to find the biggest windows all over the place letting sunlight into the room. Draco was grateful for the windows; he couldn’t deal with tight and cramped places. It was too similar to the basement. Close to one of the windows there were the most beautiful paint kits. A dark green sofa was by one of the windows and brought warmth into the place. There was a small kitchen that seemed to be telling a message, it felt cozy and was calling to be used. There was a bed in a corner who had appeared along with a small bathroom after Draco had spent the night on the sofa. Hot tea was already on the windowsill close to the easel and small stool. There were empty canvases strewn around calling out to him. He had never felt more at home. Draco had been using the room of requirement for a while now and Pansy had decided to publish his paintings using the money to help fund various causes. Draco didn’t care much for the money, he had enough of his own and if his paintings could help another then he’d keep selling them off to art galleries and collector’s.  </p><p>            Behind every single one of his paintings there was a story, a memory. Draco got up from his stool frustrated, he’d been working on this painting for a while now and wasn’t too keen on letting the whole world see it. It was too personal and yet it was just a fucking sunset. He turned on the muggle radio who had appeared after he had been staring into space for too long and took a breath before he walked back to the canvas. Sunlight was filtering through the grainy basement window. The paint was thick but not to the point that everything became abstract, the shadows seemed to shrink from the golden hues of sunlight. However, the light illuminated a dark stain on the cold stone floor which made you aware that the stain was too big, the stain was too dark and whoever had caused it was not alive. Its not good enough Draco told himself before sitting down on his stool, picking up his cup of warm tea, ‘what a joke’ he scoffs to himself. Distinctly becoming aware of music, wires by the neighbourhood, playing in the background Draco takes a deep breath before grabbing a new canvas to replace the existing one. He starts painting the forest he had ran threw several months ago now, it was so silent and eerie at first but when you got deep enough the birds sang louder than ever. Draco painted some trees slightly crooked, as if reaching for the sun, in the densest parts of the woods he added some blue the bark of the trees where the sunlight could not have reached. Wiping the sweat off his brow Draco looked at the chaotic mess around him, paint had ended up on his jeans and his paint water fallen to the ground from where he had carefully set it on the easel.</p><p>            “I had that coming I guess,” Draco sighed running his hands through his messy hair “Why the fuck did I even put it there, I’m such a fucking dumbass.” Draco stepped out of his ragged jeans searching for some sweatpants he remembered leaving on the couch. There was a pile a clothing strewn about the room since Draco had been staying here instead of the Slytherin dormitory. His nightmares always woke everyone up, so it was better this way. Finally finding his sweatpants with an ‘A-ha’ cry of triumph Draco got dressed just in time before Pansy stepped in. She gave the room a look of distaste before focusing on him.</p><p>            “Why is it so dirty in here, and are you wearing muggle clothing again?” Pansy announced walking over to the sofa pulling Draco down with her to sit. “I’m sorry about earlier.” She added as if an afterthought, but Draco knew she was worried, and it had probably been nagging her all evening.</p><p>            “Its fine don’t worry about me.”</p><p>            “Of course I’m going to worry about you, you bloody idiot!” Pansy sat up from her slouched position looking at Draco in the eyes with seriousness. “How can I not worry about you when you barely eat, and I doubt you sleep much either.”</p><p>            Draco put his hands up as she spoke telling her he understood. “I’m sorry, I’ll take better care of myself.” At her unimpressed look Draco continued, “No seriously I had some toast this morning and an apple earlier and I’m rested, look, no bags.” Draco added pointing to his eyes.</p><p>            “Well I guess that’s good,” Pansy smiled actually proud of him for having some food no matter how small. “Is that Potter I saw defending you earlier or did I just hallucinate all that part?”</p><p>            “Uhh-no that happened” Draco flushed, looking at his feet “It was weird too, he was like obsessed with making sure I was okay.”</p><p>            “Yeah, I saw you get slammed into a wall.” Pansy smirked, she didn’t add anything as Draco’s eyes went wide.</p><p>            “Its not…I mean I don’t know what all that was about.” He stammered as Pansy’s laughed getting up to grab some chips from his cupboard.</p><p>            “I literally think you two should just fuck,” Pansy laughed as Draco threw a pillow at her which she narrowly dodged. “No but come on, its literal sexual tension, the UST is intense.”</p><p>            “What in Merlin’s name is UST?” Draco asked falling back into the cushions seemingly exasperated.</p><p>            “Sorry I’ve been hanging out with Luna too much but seriously you and Potter need to do something about it before I have to get involved.” Draco’s horrified look as he imagined her trying to meddle in something that didn’t exist was enough to make her stop talking opting to chuckle instead. “Now go take a shower before we start a movie.” Pansy pushed.</p><p>            “Shower? I’ll take one in the morning.”</p><p>            “Draco sweetie you literally have paint on your face and in your hair.” Draco got up whining about oil-based paints not easily being removed with water and how it would take him ages all the while walking towards the shower.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Voilaaa :)<br/>Sorry Im two days late but we had a power outage so yeah. I hope you guys like it, let me know:)<br/>I think im going to make Draco listen to that angsty music (that I listen to and love) Asking alexandria, of mice and men, BMTH and all that shit. He might be a little punk too, honestly im working on it :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Right well, I havent been on here in a while but yeah...<br/>Tell me what you guys think, next chapter should be up next week !<br/>Stay safe guys :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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